The end of the day
is it really over, has my song been sung, my love
My sweeeet, Darling.
The sun bathes us
and elated, floating like balloons
but no words are exchanged.
This sunset expression in his eyes.
They cover up my imperfections
this white embrace
This sickness, a loving feeling
which I long for
Am impatient for it.
His presence
shadows me, his voice, a musing in my ears
as I stand there
like a 3 year old, amazed at the beauty of his speech.
Floundering, searching for words
the mess in my mind.
Cupid, is this really it ?
can it really be? this montage in my head. a painting, a mash of colour
and in it all I see is the blurring of sense.
emotion and logic
Words, spoken
are kept, safe in my head, the cheesy lines
the passing remarks, every nitty gritty
All love letters.
Nothing to hold on
and as i fall
he picks me up and catches me
my words, his words entangled
my self composed fairy tale. spinning spinning till dizzy.
I can only wish
wish
he was here, beside me, all alone to myself
my cake, my lovely, I live
I love. let me, let us float, float far away in love.
erm reader .... please forgive the pitiful state of my poetry. I have hardly any substantial inspiration. But I think It is nice, not great but nice.
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